Family Ties
by Stefani140
Summary: Join Sam, Dean, and John on their latest hunt. Also follows the mysterious and dangerous Delia. Just won the Runner Up award for Round 7 of the Supernatural FanFiction Awards.
1. Chapter 1

Family Ties

A Supernatural Fan Fiction

By: Stefani140

Chapter One

The moonlight glinted over the tops of the deserted wheat field. A hotel stood off to the side, the only one in this one stoplight town in Iowa. Two men shuffled toward the door to one of the rooms. It had been a long night. They were dirty, sweaty, and thoroughly exhausted. All they really wanted was a hot shower and a good night's sleep. They chatted as they opened the door.

"Jeez, that bitch just wouldn't go down." Dean complained loudly.

"Rough night?" Sam asked, look up from his laptop. "Can one safely assume that the zombie is back in its grave?"

"Of course it is. Have you found anything useful yet?" John wandered toward the window, listening to his sons bicker. He rolled his eyes, still fighting like they were four.

"Maybe. There's been a string of suspicious deaths in Seattle."

"And how is that up our alley exactly?" Dean raised his eyebrows, sarcastic as always.

"Well, they're al men, six so far. Found dead in their own homes, which are completely locked up from the inside. And the only obvious trauma is that their hearts are missing."

"And? Still doesn't sound like out problem."

"There's no incision or wound of any kind, anywhere on the victim's bodies.

John looked over from the window and said, "The hearts are just gone?"

"Exactly, but the coroner still ruled the cause of death as natural causes."

"Yeah, that sounds likely. We'll leave first thing in the morning. Right now all I want to do is go clean up and get to bed."

Three hundred miles away, Delia put her headphones on and lounged back on the ratty bed in her cheap Chicago hotel room. Her laptop stood open, waiting. Normally, she wouldn't just wait for a case to fall into her lap, but Tony had sounded rather desperate for her help. Her cell phone rang from the bedside table, and she jumped. Throwing the headphones aside, she grabbed for the phone.

"Yeah." She barked.

A raspy, stern male voice responded, "Where and when could one find a decent bar in New York?"

Delia rolled her eyes, "Tony, I'm really not in the mood right now."

"Should I repeat the question?"

"Oh, Lord help me. I hate you. One could find a good bar in New York at a crossroads on a blue moon, sometime between now and the fifth of never. Satisfied?" She was weary of this little routine. Her security hadn't been compromised in years, yet Tony still insisted on treating her like a child. "Now what do you have for me?"

"A really weird case. I'm sending you all the info I have via email. And, by the way Delia, it's nice talking to you too."

"Is it a preternatural case or an ordinary one?" She had no time for small talk, and frankly, she wasn't in the mood for his shenanigans anyway.

"It's anything but ordinary. But, I suppose, its not completely out of range for a psychotic human on a rampage."

Great, this was exactly what she needed. "Hmmm…deranged humans. My favorite kind. I'll call you back when I've had a look at your case file." With that, she hung up. She really was starting to despise Tony, but she did owe him a favor. It served her right for letting him save her life last year.

Her laptop announced the arrival of an email. Delia sighed; hopefully she could find a reason to turn this case down. She opened the email, and was shocked to find the actual police file. How in the world had Tony managed to steal that? Autopsy reports, crime scene photos, interviews with friends and relatives. All said the same thing. All six victims were found with their home or apartment locked from the inside. Found in their beds dead, six men, with no wounds or trauma; except for a small burn mark on their chest. Weirder still, their hearts, were missing. The autopsy reports had the same findings, just missing, no cuts or wounds to suggest that the killer had taken the organs with them. More like they'd never existed in the first place. And the moron at the coroner's office, still ruled the deaths as natural, and the cases were closed. Damn, she'd better call Tony back. She grabbed the phone again and punched in the number.

He answered on the first ring. "Alright Tony, so listen, here's the deal…"

"Whoa, hold on there sparky. Isn't there something you wanted to ask me?" Tony asked, voice laced with amusement.

Delia sighed again; and responded, the venom in her voice was apparent. "I swear Tony, I'm going to kill you one day. Here's you stupid question…In what direction does a sparrow fly in March?"

"South except on March 7th. Thanks for humoring me. And Delia, I do believe you by the way. I know that one of us will end up killing the other eventually. But since you're not killing me today, are you taking the case?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. Seattle's definitely got a spook on their hands."

"What kind?"

"Don't know yet. But I'll handle it. I'll leave in the morning." She hung up.

He was right to take her seriously. One day she would kill him, unless he killed her first; but that day wasn't today. No today she had to go chase down something unnatural in Washington. Delia mumbled a protection spell under her breath. She didn't really think it would help, but it couldn't hurt. You never knew when someone might try to kill you during the night, someone like Tony. Feeling slightly safer, she drifted off, images of the crime scenes fresh in her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The medical examiner's office was dark and quiet. In the distance came the sound of a car pulling to a stop on the gravel. A door opened, and then another, and a light appeared in the window. The light hovered for a moment and then a face replaced it.

"Well it looks empty. But why are we breaking into the medical examiner's office again?" Sam asked.

"What else can we do?" Dean knelt down and set to work on picking the lock. "Walk in and say, hi we're investigating six deaths that have been ruled as being natural causes, can we look at the bodies pretty please?"

"Alright fine. We'll do it your way, but this had better pan out."

"Would you rather have played it safe and gone to the last victim's house with dad?" Dean sneered up at his brother as the door swung open.

The boys made their way to the back of the office. Sam walked to the filing cabinet, looking for the reports on their victims. Dean headed for the freezer looking for a familiar name. As Sam rustled through the files, taking one out here and there, he was distracted. He could hear someone singing, it was soft, barely hearable. But it was there, and he'd been hearing it for almost two days.

"Hey Sammy, I got one. Come here and take a look." Dean waited for Sam to join him. He slid the body out of the freezer and started examining it himself. When Sam still hadn't shown up, he called again, "Sam!! Did you fall asleep out there?"

Sam started toward the back to see what Dean wanted, still browsing the official files. Dean was leaning over the body, peering intently at the chest. "Sam, didn't you hear me? And I thought you said the victim's had no wounds."

"Sorry, I guess I didn't hear you. And that's what the newspaper article said, why?"

"Well look. There on his chest, what does that look like to you?"

Sam leaned in to get a better look. It was hardly noticeable, but it was something. A small, red circular mark; right below where the heart would be. "It looks like a burn." He shuffled through the files he held, "And it looks like all the men had an identical mark."

In the distance came the sound of a car engine. Dean froze, careful not to make a sound. Unfortunately, the engine noise didn't disappear, it sounded like it was coming closer. "Time to go." Dean smirked and clapped Sam on the shoulder. A search light shone in one of the windows. The brothers scrambled to the floor, desperate not to be seen. The light moved one window at a time, closer to the front door. Most likely this was the local authorities, and the open door wasn't hard to miss.

Sam waved to get Dean's attention and signaled toward the back door. "It's our only shot." he whispered. Dean answered with a nod and bolted for the door. Sam followed and then ran ahead of his brother to look around the corner.

Two local cops were looking over the office and within a few moments they spotted the jimmied door. One officer motioned to the other, and they entered the building, guns drawn. "This will probably be our only chance to get back to my car." Dean whispered. Together they ran, as quietly as possible, for the Impala. They opened the doors and hopped in. In the rearview mirror they saw the two cops running after them as they drove away.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

John was worried, pacing the length of the room. This was taking too long; the boys should be back already. Besides, he had some very interesting things to tell them. This whole case was confusing him, what in the world was going on here? He looked up as he heard the slam of two car doors. Sam and Dean walked in. "What took so long?" John asked.

"Local cops showed up. It put a damper on things." Sam replies, sitting on the nearest bed. He was hardly paying attention; the singing was getting louder and harder to ignore. But since he seemed to be the only one who could hear it, he didn't mention it to anyone.

"Did you find anything?" John waited for a minute for Sam to respond, when he didn't he looked at Dean instead questioningly.

"Yeah I guess. All our boys had a small burn mark on their chests, right about where their heart would be. No other wounds." Dean looked over at Sam, something was wrong with him. "Certainly nothing through which someone could rip your heart out. What did you get?"

"There was no blood at the house. Or any signs of a struggle. Which doesn't make sense. If you have your heart ripped out, there's blood. And if you're still alive, I'd bet you'd struggle." With one last worried look at Sam, John went back to pacing. "But that's not all. The door had been kicked out when I got there."

"Wouldn't the police have done that? When they went in and found the body?"

"Maybe, but they would have secured the door again. But it was wide open. I think someone else had been there before me."

"Like who?" Dean look puzzled, but was still focusing mostly on Sam, who was strangely silent.

"Another hunter maybe? But back to what's killing people, any ideas?"

"It's gotta be a Succubus." Sam said, still staring off into empty space. "Only thing that fits all the circumstances. I'll look up some lore on it in the morning."

"A Succubus? Great, that should be tons of fun." Dean looked at his brother again. "For tonight, let's get some sleep. We can hunt this thing down tomorrow." Sam didn't argue, he just lay down, not even bothering to take his shoes off. The singing was enchanting, and as he drifted off to sleep he could almost picture the gorgeous woman who belonged to that voice. But of course, it had to be his imagination. Better to put it out of his mind, things would be back to normal in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was well before dawn when Delia's phone rang again. She grabbed for it sleepily. "What?" she barked.

"It's Tony. What's going on in Seattle?"

"No formalities today Tony? And why are you calling me at this ungodly hour?" She was angry at him now. She wasn't his lapdog, who he could order around to his heart's content. She'd only taken this case as a favor; he'd better not push his luck.

"I want to know if you've killed it yet. You've been in Seattle for what, 24 hours now?"

"Let's see, I know what IT is. But it isn't dead yet, no. Oh, and thanks for the warning about the hunter."

"What hunter? And why isn't this, well whatever it is, dead yet?"

"Yeah, a hunter almost caught me in the victim's house. I had to climb out a window to avoid him. And the creature isn't dead because if I wait a little bit longer, it'll practically come to me. So I'm being patient."

"What do you mean, it'll come to you?" She could hear the edge to his voice, he was getting angry with her. She was being evasive on purpose; it was probably taking all his self control not to scream at her right now.

"This particular creature can most easily be tracked when it has a victim. That's when it lets its shields down. So I'm waiting for it to snatch someone. Them bam, holy water, silver knife to the heart, and THEN it'll be dead." Delia didn't know why she was explaining herself to Tony; he wasn't her boss after all. "I'm going back to sleep now." She hung up and threw the phone on the floor. This thing would play right into her hands; she just needed to wait a little bit longer.

The first rays of sun peeked through the blinds, casting shadows across Dean's face. Grumbling, he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. He heard water running from the bathroom. As he looked around he realized that he was alone in the room. Sam's laptop sat on the table, open and running. That was odd. Well, no matter, they'd both show up eventually. The bathroom door opened and John stepped out. Dean was still sitting on his bed looking decidedly sleepy. John looked around, puzzled, and asked, "Where's Sam?"

"Don't know, he wasn't here when I woke up."

"Is the car still here?"

Dean brushed the blinds out of his way. "Yeah. Maybe we went to get breakfast or something." Dean pulled himself off the bed and walked to the bathroom. He knew he should be worried; it wasn't like Sam to just disappear like this. Not to mention how strangely he'd been acting ever since they got here. He climbed in the shower, still thinking. A few moments later he hit the wall and sighed, why did Sam always have to worry him like this? Couldn't he, for once, just quit being so secretive. Resigned to the fact that he'd have to worry about his little brother for a while longer, he got out of the shower again. Throwing on some clothes, he walked back out the door. John was pacing, and Sam was obviously not out to breakfast.

Dean sat down next to the laptop, "We should call his cell. Maybe he went out last night, after we went to sleep, and is passed out drunk somewhere." John reached for the phone and dialed. Almost instantly, they could hear a faint ringing.

"What in the world?" Dean stood and began searching for the source of the ringing. He rounded the side of Sam's bed, and leaned underneath the edge. "Oh shit. This isn't a good sign." He emerged from under the bed holding Sam's phone. "Think we should really start worrying now? Damn it, I knew he was acting weird. Or weirder than usual."

"His laptop is running. Let's see what he was working on. It might help us figure out where he went.

"Think this disappearing act has something to do with the Succubus?"

"I can almost guarantee it." John walked around the table, and sat in front of the computer. He typed Sam's password and a website popped up. John and Dean quietly read what was on the screen:

_According to popular legend, the Succubus is a creature that takes a human female form to lure its victim. The male equivalent is the Incubus. The Succubus spends days ensnaring her victim. Prior to capture, victims often hear a faint singing that seems to be calling to them. This is very similar to the sirens of Greek mythology. Once in the Succubus' victims are tricked into falling in love with her. Her sole purpose is to become pregnant by a human male, thus continuing their line (Succubi and Incubi cannot reproduce on their own) Once the victim can no longer struggle from exhaustion, from the constant sexual activity, the Succubus shows its true form (which is believed to be a demon form). Usually she then removes the heart of her victim, by means unknown. It is believed she uses the hearts to feed her offspring, who are "hatched" in sacs that are stored in the Succubus' lair. A Succubus is created when a woman scorn makes an oath to take revenge on any and all men. After the oath is made, a demon will appears and turn the woman into a Succubus (this works similarly with the Incubus). Most often the Succubus attacked victims in their own home. Able to gain entry through the mental link she has been forging for several days (with the singing). When this is not possible she can use this mind control to call the victim to her lair, usually an abandoned cave. According to myth, the only known way to kill a Succubus is to stab it through the heart with a knife made of pure silver. _

"I guess we know where Sam is." John looked up, the distress obvious on his face.

"Wait, wait, wait. You really think Sammy is off getting freaky with this thing?"

"You said it yourself Dean, he's been acting strangely for days. And if he'd left on his own he would have told us, left a note, or something."

"Then we'd better figure out where this thing's lair is. Otherwise Sam will probably be dead by dark." Dean reached across the table and grabbed some local maps. Together, they pored over them, looking for all the caves in the area. Looking for one that was big enough, but also completely empty. It proved to be quite a search. There was many a heavy sigh and furrowed brow as the sun moved across the sky. The occasional rustling of maps or slurp from a coffee cup was the only noise that broke up the monotony.

As the sun slinked down on the horizon, Dean jumped out of his seat. "I've got it." Dean presented the map to John, pointing. "Bellick Caves. According to the guidebooks it was closed a few years ago for safety reasons. It's been abandoned ever since. And it's only about an hour's drive."

"You think it's the place?"

"It better be. We'll only have one shot. I just hope we're not too late already." Dean stood, and walked to the bed. He grabbed a bottle of holy water and a silver dagger. "Should be fun, I haven't had a chance to use this one yet. Let's go save Sammy's ass!" And together they walked out, and climbed in the car.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The surrounding woods were eerie at this time of day. It was just before dark, the crickets were humming, and the cave stood looming ahead. A few yards in front of the entrance stood a sign: Do Not Enter. Unsafe Conditions. John smiled and called back, "Sounds exactly like our kind of place." A nervous laugh was the only response he received.

The two men strode to the entrance of the cave, flashlights lit. Even with the light, the darkness seemed crushing; almost as if they would be unable to move or breathe through it. After the initial chamber, the tunnel took a shark downward angle. Dean took the lead. The tunnel narrowed slowly, with barely enough room to squeeze through at times. That could present a problem if a quick escape became necessary. Suddenly the trail leveled off and opened into a large room. It was warm and humid, and they could hear something dripping to the cave floor.

As John and Dean shone their flashlights around the room, they could see numerous flesh colored sacs hanging heavily from the ceiling. Several of them were dripping a dark and smelly liquid. Dean prodded the nearest one with the butt of his flashlight, something moved inside, Dean jumped back. "Ok, now THAT is just disgusting."

John's tone was all business when he replied, stern and abrupt. "These must be her offspring."

"You mean that there are little heart-ripping-out demons in these?"

John shrugged, "Probably. I've heard lore about it, but never seen it myself. Let's keep going, this is definitely the place. We'll burn these on our way back out."

Dean's stride was quicker than usual as he made his way across the room. He was more than happy to be leaving. Only a few steps down the path he could see a faint shimmering from up ahead. Lit candles lined the pathway. Dean smiled coyly, "Guess this means we're close." He thought for a moment, and his smile faded; replaced by a vaguely horrified look. "But I swear if we walk in on Sammy doing, well something I don't want to think about with that thing; I'll kill him instead of the Succubus."

John grinned, "Would you like me to take the lead then?" Dean nodded, and his dad took up the front. Dean pulled a gun from his jacket pocket, John furrowed his brow, "That won't kill it you know."

"I know that, but it'll still hurt like hell." Dean motioned forward with the gun, and they continued on their way. The path cleared again, and the next room came into view. Candles lined walls, lighting the room. Furs were laid over the entire floor. A gleaming four-poster bed stood in the center, with Sam handcuffed to the headboard. Dean walked forward, leaving John by the door, "Where is it?"

Sam look relieved, "I don't know. She left a few minutes ago." Dean leaned forward with a lock pick in hand, "Let's get you out of here Sammy." As soon as the lock pick hit the handcuffs a faint thud interrupted Dean's concentration. The brothers looked up and toward the exit. A beautiful woman was standing over their dad's unconscious form. She was tall, pale, very thin, and blond. She moved with an air of grace, and had a certain unearthly quality about her.

Sam's eyes widened, 'That's it. That's the Succubus."

Dean put the lock pick in Sam's hand and stood, "Guess you'll have to do that yourself kiddo. I've got some demon ass to kick." He pulled the dagger from the inside pocket of his jacket, and grinned, "Bring it on bitch." The Succubus lunged at Dean, knocking him back a few steps. He slashed at her once, she ducked. He went for the holy water next, catching her on the side of the face. She shrieked in agony and lunged at him again. Dean rolled out of her way and leaped back to his feet. She came for him and he slashed at her again, she grabbed his wrist. Dean yelled, she was surprisingly strong and it caught him off guard. She head butted him, and he fell against the wall, dagger skittering across the floor.

Somewhere behind the battle, Sam was yelling something, still struggling with the cuffs. The Succubus grabbed Dean by the throat and lifted him from the ground; he struggled desperately to reach her face. Just as the edges of Dean's vision went black, the Succubus released him; eyes wide with surprise. Dean dropped to the ground, clutching his throat. After gasping for breath for a moment, he fought his way to his feet and saw another woman standing over the Succubus' body, a knife in its back. Not knowing whether she was friend or foe, he reached into his pocket for the gun again; and she was on the move as well. Quick as lightning she pulled another knife, and put it to Dean's throat. Just as quickly he pointed the gun at her head. He looked into her deep green eyes, framed by curly dark hair. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm the one who just saved your ass. Who are you?"

Sam appeared at the edge of this scene, rubbing his wrists, "Ok Dean, put the gun down."

Dean looked shocked, "How do we know she's not another demon?"

She laughed, the disdain obvious in her voice, "What amateurs! Me, a demon! Throw holy water on my all day babe, won't bother me a bit."

Dean look at Sam, "Fine I'll put it down. Only if she puts the knife down first." He cocked the gun just to make his point.

She laughed again, "Which of us do you think is quicker, hunter? Think you could pull that trigger before I slit your throat?"

Sam's apprehension came through in his voice, "How about neither of you kill the other? We appear to be on the same side here."

Dean grinned sarcastically and looked at the woman, "Alright, I'll put the gun away. If we can agree to step down at the same time."

Delia nodded and stepped back, placing the knife in its sheath on her thigh. She folded her arms, putting one hand on the gun in her shoulder holster; she wouldn't trust them completely. "Now, what are you two doing here?"

"Killing a Succubus." Sam tried.

She smiled, and sarcastically replied, "Splendid job."

From behind them, John struggled to his feet. He looked at the scene before him and said, "Delia? Is that you?"

She whipped around and looked at him, eyes widening with fury. Her voice quivered when she spoke, "John! What are you doing here?" She stumbled a little, knees shaky, and continued "I thought I told you to go to hell, and never bother me again."

Dean looked confused, "Wait, how do you two know each other?"

She turned to face him, "No, answer this first. How do you know this bastard?"

"Well see, that's sort of our dad. Now, I'll repeat MY question…."

She threw up her hand, interrupting him. "Your dad?" She stumbled backwards as she nearly lost her footing again. "I, uh, never …." She fled the room, nearly falling several times.

Dean looked at John, more confused than ever. "I take it you two have a history. Not a good one from the sound of it. What, you break her heart or something?"

John flushed, fidgeting and uncomfortable, "Not exactly. She kind of, um. Damn it, this is awkward." He slumped on the edge of the bed, and put his head in his hands. "She's your sister."

Sam and Dean rounded on him, and together exclaimed, "She's what?

"Let me explain, please. It's a very long story."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The brothers were beyond shocked. Sam merely stood there, staring open mouthed at his father, eyes wide. Dean had taken to pacing, appearing to be deep in thought. Finally, he spoke, voice sounding uncertain and shaky, "Alright dad, very funny. Great joke, really! Now, who is she really?"

"Dean, I wish I was kidding. You two had better take a seat; this story could take a while." John watched his sons as they sat, both looking at him like he had suddenly sprouted four extra heads. He took a deep breath and looked at them. "The first thing that you both need to understand is that I only did what I thought was best. I never intended for you to find out this way. I was merely trying to protect you. So, with that said, here goes….Delia is in fact your sister. Your twin sister, Sam, to be more precise."

Sam's jaw dropped even more, his voice shook when he replied, "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I know. Shelia, at least that was her name then, a fraternal twin. Anyway, the night your mom died, your sister disappeared. After the demon killed Mary, it kidnapped your sister. I was distraught, I didn't know what to do. I assumed that the demon had killed her too. So I tried to focus on what I had left, you two."

"But you never mentioned her, why?" Dean asked, finally looking at John.

"Well, you used to talk about her all the time Dean, when you were little. But as I stopped talking about her, so did you, until I think you forgot that she ever existed. I thought it was best that way. You'd already lost your mother. I didn't think it would benefit you to know that your sister was murdered too. At least I thought she was. And I was so busy protecting you guys….I really just wanted to forget. I lost two of the most precious people in the world to me that night. I wanted to prepare you boys, so I wouldn't lose you too."

Sam spoke this time, his voice laced with disgust. "Did you at least try to find out if she was alive? Or did you just assume the worst and move on with your life?"

"Of course I tried. And everywhere I turned, everyone I talked to, said she was dead. Then when I finally found the demon, it asked if I'd ever found my precious daughter. It said that she was alive and…." John stumbled, tears rolling down his face. "I knew I had to find her. To try and explain myself at the very least. It took me months to track her down; she's very good at staying below the radar. And when I told her my story, she was livid. She said I was lying. Told me to go to hell, literally and figuratively, and to never bother her again."

"Well, I can't just let her leave, "Sam said, "I mean, we can't just let her walk away."

"Yeah, she really acted like she wants to see me again." John wiped his eyes, "Maybe she'd listen to you two though. It's worth a shot at least. See if we can't get her to listen to reason."

The three of them stood, gathered their equipment and left. On their way out they made sure to set fire to the Succubus' offspring. Once in the Impala, Sam leaned forward and said, "How do we find her exactly? Do you know what kind of car she drives?"

"I'd know her car if I saw it. Assuming it's the same one, a bright red jeep liberty….can't miss it. And we could probably find her at a bar somewhere; I hear that she likes a good beer after a hunt."

Dean grinned, "That's my kind of woman. Guess she takes after me."

They drove slowly through town. Stopping at every bar, letting John search the parking lot. Dean slowed and pulled in front of another place. A flashing neon sign announced the bar, "Area 51."

John suddenly sat up straighter and waved frantically at the almost empty parking lot. "That's it!! Told you it was hard to miss." He was pointed at a fire-engine red jeep.

Dean pulled the Impala into the nearest parking space. Sam leaned forward again, "maybe Dean and I should go in alone. She might run if she sees you again."

John sighed, "You're probably right. But more than likely she wouldn't run again. She was just caught off guard earlier. She'd probably kick my ass actually."

"At this point, I'm not sure I'd blame her." Sam said, adopting a very serious face.

His brother looked back, "Whoa Sam. Pull the claws back in, seriously." Dean shook his head, and opened the car door. "Let's go." Sam and Dean stepped from the car, and walked toward the bar entrance. Both of them hoping that they weren't about to get another knife to the throat.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Dean was the one who spotted her first, sitting in the farthest corner, half hidden in the shadows. They approached her table and pulled up a few chairs. Dean gave his best smart ass grin, "You know I was skeptical that we were related at first. But that whole running away thing; definitely reminded me of Sammy here."

She turned her gaze to him, pure hatred shining through her eyes, "Go away, I want nothing to do with you, any of you. Don't force me to do something drastic in public."

Sam spoke this time, "Please just give us a chance to talk to you. We just found out about this situation tonight."

Delia raised her beer to her mouth and took another swig, "So, you've heard the same bullshit story then?"

Sam nodded, "Same bullshit story."

Dean threw him a look of surprise and said, "We've heard the story. And we have no reason to think that it's not the truth."

She scoffed, "You wouldn't think that if you were in my shoes. Hearing that story after everything I went through. Being raised like I was." She almost kicked herself, she had said far too much. Her childhood was none of their damn business, now she'd be forced to explain.

Sam leaned across the table, looking at Delia intently, "So, tell us then. We're interested, honestly. That's why we came after you. I, personally, would like to know how you became a hunter too."

She leaned forward, "Fine, I'll give you the whole sorry tale. Then I want to be left alone. Like I said, don't force me to do something messy and extreme to make you leave." For emphasis, she opened her coat a little, revealing an array of weapons.

Dean chuckled, somewhat nervously. "You wouldn't attack us in a public place. Not in front of all these people." He gestured at the half-dozen other patrons.

She grinned deviously, making Dean feel even less secure with his last statement. "You sure about that?" She sighed, enough with the pissing contest; time to get this over with. "Now first off, I'm not a hunter. Well, not strictly a hunter to be more accurate. Anyway, my family found me when I was a baby. And keep in mind that I'm using the word family very, very lightly. Apparently, I had been abandoned in a field, they watched from a distance for hours to see if someone would come get me, but no one ever did. So they took me in, they being a group of mercenaries and assassins. My childhood was…." She swallowed hard, she hated talking about this, "It was, not very pleasant to say the least. I was raised as an assassin in training. Hell, I could hold a gun before I could even walk. They tried to make me their own little sociopath. If I ever resisted or defied them, I was locked up or beaten. Usually both."

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Sam spoke up, "I've very sorry, that must have been horrible."

She looked at the table, eyes blank, "Shut up with that sissy crap, "Delia retorted.

Dean smiled and said, "I tell him that all the time, he never listens."

Delia fiddled with her beer bottle, "Anyway, things got worse when I was about fifteen. They came to me and said I had my first job, and threw a file at me. They actually expected me to kill the person in that file. I protested, even though I knew it was useless. After spending four days locked in the closet, I agreed to do the job. I still remember him too, Allen Jamison. His wife paid ten grand for the hit, wanted his insurance money or something like that. Seemed like a pretty decent guy over the few days I was watching him, not that it mattered, and I did my job." She paused and looked at Sam and Dean expecting recrimination.

Sam took a deep breath, "I assume there were more after him. Do you remember all of them too?" He was trying very hard to be compassionate, the last thing she needed was someone judging her lifestyle.

"No, after a while they all tend to run together. But I took all kinds of jobs after that, more hits. Sometimes clients wanted things stolen for them, have people beaten up. Then we moved onto the really fun stuff; demons, vampires, werewolves, all manner of preternatural crap. And I got good at it, really fast."

Dean interrupted at this point, "I have to ask. Is there a difference between killing a human and, say, a demon? I mean, which is easier? And not how you kill them, but…"

She looked at him, "You mean as far as the feeling that goes into it?" Dean nodded, so she continued. "Simple answer, there isn't one. No difference at all. It doesn't matter what I'm killing, I feel nothing. Nothing good, nothing bad, just blank. But like I said, I'm a typical sociopath. Anyway, back to the story. A few years ago I decided to start doing mostly preternatural stuff. I quit taking as many mercenary, even fewer assassinations. I haven't done anything like that in almost two years now."

Sam spoke, grinning as though he's just thought of something, "You're not a sociopath. You stopped taking the human jobs, obviously that shows that you felt something. Thought something was wrong with it."

Delia laughed, sounding highly amused, "Not exactly." She looked at Dean, "Is he always this bad with the sunshine and puppies shit?"

Dean nodded enthusiastically, "It's nauseating, isn't it?"

She laughed again. "My choice had nothing to do with feeling guilty. I found myself in a police station once too often for my liking. You're must less likely to run into problems with the law when you're killing vampires instead of people." Delia looked at her watch, "Well boys, it's been amusing, but I gotta run. People to see, things to kill. I held up my end of the deal. I told you my sob story, now please leave me be."

Sam jumped to his feet, "Wait, you can't leave now. We could help you, work together."

Delia shook her head. "Sorry, but I work alone. And I have no desire to spend one second with that sack of crap that's calling himself my father. Besides I'm off to settle a score with an old acquaintance." She walked out the door, Sam and Dean close on her heels.

They got into their respective cars, and Delia pulled away. From the back seat Sam leaned forward, clearly upset. "Are we really just going to let her walk away?"

Dean shook his head, "I don't want to. But she basically threatened to gut us if we come after her. And frankly, that girl scares the shit out of me."

They sat in the parking lot for a long time, recapping the story they'd just heard for John. It was a complex story, and by the end John was upset again. "I swear, if I'd known….well I don't know what I could have done. But it would have been something. And Sam's right, we can't let her out of our lives again. We might have to risk her being angry with us for a while. And she's good at hiding, it might take some time to track her down again. Are you guys up for a long trip?"

Dean smiled broadly, "As long as I get to drive, and I pick the music; then I'm in." The other two nodded in agreement. Dean reached for the cassette player and popped in Metallica. He turned it up, and pulled out onto the road. The Impala sped down the road, chasing after a mysterious and very dangerous woman.

The End


End file.
